Dirty Dancing
by whitetyger123
Summary: Perhaps it was the chains that were waving from his hips, or perhaps the spiky blond hair, or the fact that he had gorgeous green eyes that France saw when he turned around... "Arthur?" France/England written by me and schoolgirl-cheesesculpture rp ya


Letting the deep, driving beat push his body, England allowed himself to let loose for one of the first times since he gave up piracy. Normally he would have never been caught dead at one of the popular 'Euro-dance clubs', but for some reason he changed his mind when he saw this club on his way through Spain on a regular meeting day. There had just been something about it that had lured the conservative man into it's depths.

Maybe it was because Arthur never really felt that he outgrew them, or maybe because he knew he couldn't get in wearing a suit that he had dug through his closet back home for some more practical dancing clothes. Well maybe practical wasn't the right word for them, but it was the best to describe his old 80's punk ensemble. Just looking at them made a fond smile go across his lips as he remembered all his famous bands that had driven the look.

So as it was, he was abandoning himself to the overwhelming push of the music to dance in the throng of people wearing said clothes. In all, they weren't too flashy themselves, but even just wearing the tight, plaid trousers and a slightly ripped top emblazoned with "Sex Pistols" was more then he was used to. England had opted to go all out and even adorn himself with a few chains dangling from his waist where two belts hung loose on his small hips. As well, Arthur was surprised to find that almost all his old piercing holes weren't completely healed over. Even the one on the side of his lips allowed a small ring to fit into it after a few seconds of pushing.

In all, his disguise had allowed him entrance into the club. He must have looked to be about five years older then most of the men in the club, but it didn't stop multiple men from coming up around him and dancing beside him.

Francis swung his hips seductively, trying to get a dangerous looking blond to notice him. He loved clubs like these, addicted to the feel of the dance, the pulse of the crowd. A while ago he had already been buzzed, and now he was starting to be more to the drunk side of things. Luckily, though, he could still dance. The nation swam his way through the gyrating bodies, trying to make his way to the man that had caught his eye. Perhaps it was the chains that were waving from his hips, or perhaps the spiky blond hair, or the fact that he had gorgeous green eyes that France saw when he turned around...

"Arthur?"

Looking over at the person who had called his name, England was about to ask them just how they knew him until he realized just who the suave voice belonged to. This was definitely not how he ever wanted to be found by anyone, never less the Parisian. Although, this was a sure way to fix his little 'problem' that he had been having all night. "Who the bloody hell are you?" Well, he couldn't make it too easy for him. Although they were fairly close, England was able to get another body between them so he could start rolling his hips in time with the music. He kept his green eyes trained on Francis' still in the multicoloured room.

A second of confusion washed over France, to be replaced by a playful smile, almost as quick as the song changing. So England wanted to play a little game, did he? "I'm sorry, I don't give my name to strangers." He pressed up to the person between them, never taking his eyes off Arthur. Games were always fun, especially when played with someone who looked as sexy as the other nation did at the moment.

With a disapproving snort, England left the other man to Francis and walked away through the writhing mass of people. His back to the other nation he just gave him the finger but ruined the affect as he looked back and winked. The narcissistic blond wasn't the only one who could be seductive when he wanted something. And right now, he wanted sex; to put it bluntly.

Lifting a manicured eyebrow, Francis watched as England walked away. He would have followed him, but the mass of people was too great, so instead he put a hand on the hip of the man in front of him, moving along with the music as the brunette gave him a wink. Of course, he hardly payed attention to the wink, watching instead that plaid covered ass make its way across the dance floor.

Checking back quickly to see if Francis' eyes were still on him, England smirked to himself as he stopped in the middle of the crowd and started to dance with them. Now all he had to do was wait for a person to come to him. After all, it was much more enticing when France realized that he wasn't unwanted. If he wanted it, Arthur could probably get anyone in this room, and the other nation would be a fool not to realize that fact.

Tilting his head slightly to watch as a tall man got closer to Arthur, Francis hardly noticed as the man he was dancing with put his arms around the Frenchman's neck. Of course his body kept instinctively moving, but his mind was a few meters away, wrapping its hand over England's wrist and guiding it to his own back, just like the tall man was doing.

Letting his hand be placed on the other man's back, it didn't take long before Arthur took control and started to grind himself against the other man, throwing his head back to catch Francis' eye and smirk. If he didn't come to intervene soon England would probably just take this man instead. He was obviously willing and just a nod toward the bathroom and they would be off without a second to spare. Unless that was, if France took him off himself. Normally the thought would sicken him, but now he felt young and rebellious and didn't care if his self proclaimed enemy fucked him senseless right on the dance floor.

The Frenchman pried himself off of his own dance partner, going to Arthur. He couldn't stand it anymore, watching him dry-fuck another man was next to torture. Francis grabbed an English hand as it was swung out and pulled the rebellious-looking man towards himself.

Playfully glaring at his new dance partner, England thought for a second about how he was supposed to be infuriated by the blond. But that fact wasn't going to stop him from doing anything. For him, this night held no weight in the grand scheme of things. If Francis tried to bring it up later, he could just deny it and call him a perverted Frenchman for assuming things.

Nonetheless, he was dancing unabashedly next to the self absorbed man. Smirking, he asked. "I thought you said you didn't talk to strangers." His eyes shone fiercely in the light of the club, accented by his eyeliner he had applied with a practised hand.

With an identical smirk France shook his head to the beat of the new song. "I said I don't give my name to strangers. Never said anything about talking." He had to yell and lean close to be heard, but didn't mind. It was just amazing to be swinging his hips in tandem with the island nation next to him.

"Shut up then and dance." With that, he wrapped one arm around Francis' neck and leaned closer to him to rub their bodies together with even more friction. Really, he couldn't deny the fact that he was a good dancer since it was turning him on more and more the longer he was pressed up against him.

Grounding up against the short haired blond, Francis gave a quiet groan that couldn't be heard over the music. England was just so hot it was hard to ignore the fact that they were both getting erections from being so close.

Staring into the other's eyes, England pushed his hips hard onto Francis. Really, if they were to keep this up they wouldn't be able to keep from doing anything unless they stopped or went somewhere else soon. "Are you new here?"

Smirking, France glanced over at the lighted stage. "Not as new as you." He really doubted that Arthur came to any clubs often anymore, and Spain had taken him here a few times. Even Prussia had come with them before, though he didn't like dancing as much as grounding up against people to show off. It was basically what they were all doing in the hot scrambles of limbs, but there was a difference somehow.

"Ha." Arthur laughed harshly, unsure what else to say. It was somewhat awkward for them to pretend that they didn't know each other but it would be more strange for them to come to terms with what they were doing. Well, at least it would be for him. Nevertheless, they continued to rock and grind against each of their bodies, pressed closer by the people around him. England could feel his hair already sticking to his forehead even with all the time he spent gelling it into place.

Winding his hand around Arthur's waist, France pulled him even closer, rubbing their crotches together as well as the rest of their bodies. To anyone else, it would just appear as if they were dancing together, but they were both feeling good, even between two layers of clothes. Tilting his head, Francis brought their lips together for a second, lingering on the piece of metal he found there. "I like your lip ring." Of course he had noticed the hole before, but had never asked about it.

Letting a soft moan get lost in the cacophony of sounds, the Briton just smiled as he made eye contact with the man again. "I'd say I like something about you, but it would be a lie." Well, maybe saying that he would like France's cock out of his pants wouldn't be untruthful, but he wasn't going to say it yet. He would just wait it out and see if the sultry blond mentioned anything about their matching tents in their trousers.

"So you don't like my hands?" France said, splaying his hands out on Arthur's ass and slipping them into his back pockets. "Or my legs?" He moved one of his legs so it was between England's, rubbing up against him. "Or even my voice?" He whispered in his ear, blowing warm air over the burning skin.

An involuntary shudder went through England's body against the music. How dare Francis play dirty? But truth be told, that was exactly what he wanted at the moment; to be pressed up hard against the other nation. All but riding the other's leg desperately, he managed to get close to his ear. "Does it seem like I don't?" Arthur mumbled seductively into his ear, his cool lip ring brushing it.

Taking his hands out of England's back pockets, Francis hooked them instead in his belt loops. A new, louder song came on, so there was almost no chance of being heard. Instead, they both moved to the new, faster beat. They both wanted more friction.

England gave up on self control as he grabbed desperately onto the Frenchman's hair and pulled there mouths together harshly. Under any other normal circumstance he would be disgusted with someone for dancing in such a provocative manner, but right now he just wanted to be closer and to have _more_. By now the rolling of his hips against Francis' leg was more a reflex then something he had to think about.

Francis was glad England was wearing a loose belt as he slipped a hand down the top, skirting around his underwear. He had to pull their hips away slightly so his hand could fit, but he grabbed ahold of his cock, rubbing his palm awkwardly up and down it as much as he could, given the circumstances. Because of how dark it was, it was very unlikely that they would be noticed.

Moaning loudly, he had to pull away from the kiss a bit as his breathing increased. "Bloody hell..." Arthur muttered under his breath, much too quiet for anyone to hear. Instead of stilling, if anything his hips just thrust harder into the hand as he was awkwardly stroked. The pants might have been good to show his body off, but not when it came to situations like this.

Bending his head so he could suck lightly on Arthur's neck, France grabbed his hand lightly and led it to his own bulge. Once it was touched, he bit down in the skin in his mouth, feeling the vibrations as England moaned. It was amazing how lewd he could be at times.

It didn't take much to prod Arthur into having his own hand delve into the other nation's trousers to stroke the needy cock in there. Well, if France was feeling anything like he was, it was definitely too hard for the tight confines of both of their pants though there was nothing they could do about that. They were still on the dance floor, bathed in the lights and sounds of the club and egged on by the pulsing of the human bodies.

The mouth on his neck just pushed him more to continue moving and rubbing his hand over the French prick. Copying the embrace, he leaned forward so that their chests were touching and started to bite at the other's perfect skin. He made sure it wasn't too hard even with his lust hazed brain because he knew that it would just be used to embarrass him later.

Breathing heavier as his cock was played with, Francis felt bodies pressing up against them, moving around them. Of course, they all had no clue what was going on between the two people dancing closer than others. He couldn't move his hand much, but he still felt Arthur's length twitching in his palm. They needed to be somewhere else, fast.

England rested his head in the crook of Francis' neck as both of their hands started to go faster and squeeze tighter. They were both already getting close to orgasm, but Arthur wasn't going to let that happen. If they were already doing this on the dance floor, then he couldn't be more embarrassed as he roughly pulled away after grabbing his hand. "Bathroom, now!" He yelled over the music, trying to ignore how much he just wanted to wank himself off. But what would be the point if he was going to have sex with the self proclaimed 'master' of love?

Nodding, the Frenchman grabbed Arthur's hand, pulling him through the crowd. The bathrooms should be around here, perhaps... yes! They both almost ran to the dark door, not even caring that their cocks were completely hard and if any one bothered looking down, it would be painfully obvious what they were going to do.

When they were barely even inside the washroom, Arthur couldn't help but pull France back close to him to crash their lips together. They moved together quickly and passionately; tongues quickly adding to the battle for dominance. There might have been someone actually using the bathroom for its intended purpose, but neither of them payed them any heed as they awkwardly got into a stall and locked the door.

It was quieter in the room, so France could actually hear the loud breathing of the blond, his occasional gasps or moans. He pushed the Brit against one of the thin metal walls, running his hand under the ripped black shirt. His tongue rolled about in Arthur's mouth, the heated kiss making them both forget everything outside of that small cubicle.

Pushing his own tongue against the other nations, they continued to grind against each other in time with the muted bass of the club music. Luckily the lighting wasn't too good so they still couldn't see each other perfectly. England moaned again as his nipples were flicked lightly and he held on tightly to France's shoulder blades to hold them close for the delicious friction.

Hands back at England's crotch, Francis worked on getting his pants down. Once they were undone, he pushed them as far down his legs as he could reach without bending down, not caring enough to get them completely off. Pulling away from the kiss, he quickly coated his fingers with saliva, not wanting to take the time to find something better.

Not needing to be told what to do, Arthur turned around and braced himself against the door. His arse was sticking out as he looked over his shoulder with slightly narrowed eyes, watching as the other blond nation slicked his fingers with saliva. As much as he wanted to, the Briton didn't reach down to touch himself, instead letting himself get harder from the anticipation.

Putting a hand on England's lower back, Francis put two fingers in his entrance. He waited hardly any time before scissoring them, needing to be inside of him as soon as possible. By the way Arthur was throwing his head back, he could tell they wanted the same thing. France leaned over him, once again sucking on his neck.

"_Now_." He managed to growl out, just before Francis thrust himself deep inside. A strangled moan escaped his mouth before he bit down on his arm to silence himself. God, it felt so bloody _great_! Without letting himself get used to the length inside him, they both started to move harshly against each other.

France blended their bodies together, separated by only clothes. Being inside him felt, if possible, more amazing than usual. Francis held them close, feeling every part of Arthur's heated skin. He found himself moving to the beat of the fast song outside, making their own version of the dance.

Using his hands to keep him from hitting the door, Arthur also pushed back on France's prick, wanting it deeper inside him. No matter how close they could get, he just wanted to get closer and feel more.

Reaching around Arthur, France grabbed his cock, giving it a few strokes. He really hoped he wasn't hurting England, but really, he wasn't sure he could stop at this point even if he was. It was so tight and hot, hotter than usual, he would have to keep slamming into him until they were both spent.

Moving so that he was keeping himself from hitting the metal door with his forearm, his other arm reached back to pull France's head close so they could start kissing again. This time it was more tongue than lips, but for Arthur it was just what he needed. Sure they had only just started shagging, but after the hand job on the dance floor he felt like he was going to cum hard in a few seconds.

Twirling his tongue around the other one, France kept the speed of his hand up to match his frantic thrusts. His tongue brushed up against the metal of Arthur's lip ring, making the ball move. He had always loved piercings.

Opening his eyes, England couldn't see the other man clearly because they were so close, but it still felt somewhat erotic to be watching him as they continued to snog. Both of their bodies were moving faster and harder now; it took most of his energy not to go smashing into the door.

The Frenchman stopped thinking as he felt Arthur's walls contract around him. He was a beast of instinct, tightening his hand as England's cock twitched, precum leaking out, moving in the repeated thrusting motion which was bringing them so much pleasure. As he hit that small cluster of nerves again, he knew his partner was finished a second before he came.

Groaning out, "Francis!" loudly, the Briton felt his arse tighten around the other's shaft as his own prick released hard onto his hand and the door in front of him. He figured that he should be more embarrassed by it, but he could only think about just how amazing it felt that France was still pounding hard inside him. A few seconds later though, his thrusts because faster and jerkier as he got seconds away from his own climax. Then without much warning, his cock was rammed deep inside him as the other nation reached his climax.

Staying buried in the tight warmth, Francis held onto England a second longer. They stood there, catching their breath, not moving for the first time that night. "And I thought we were strangers." He whispered, glad he could be heard in the quieter room.

"I wish." Arthur answered just as quietly, letting France lean against him. It felt somewhat awkward to have him still be inside, but it felt strangely right after their hurried sex. "If you promise not to tell anyone about this, I'll make sure to make it worthwhile."

"It was already worth my while, but if you have more to offer I will take it." He smiled and started pulling out, knowing that if he stayed in longer he would get hard again. "What did you have in mind?"

Smirking, Arthur explained. "Well, if a certain stranger was to appear here again, it would be truthful to say that he wouldn't mind getting to know you better. That is, as long as you don't say anything to _anyone._ Especially not that loud mouthed American." Really, for hating the Frenchman's guts, he couldn't truthfully say he wasn't a good shag.

"Hm, well if this certain stranger happened to be a blond punk with a few piercings, I might want to get to know him better as well." And he wouldn't need to tell anyone about the night club, of course. After all, there were many other things he could embarrass England about.

Pulling his pants up despite the cum leaking out, he turned around and smirked at the Frenchman. "Who knows." Really, even he didn't know when they would meet, or even if they were going to meet here again.

Zipping up his own pants, Francis leaned closer for a quick kiss before pulling away and opening the door. "Should we go? You could stay at my hotel, if you want." Of course, Spain might walk in at any time, considering he was the one who arranged the room, but France and Arthur together wasn't really a new sight to see.

"As entertaining as that would be, no." Walking out of the stall with as much dignity as he could, England just grinned back at Francis. "Plus, I think my night out has already been ruined for dancing."

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This was written for UcHiHaHyUuGa, who was our 300th reviewer for our story Fall of a Hero.

So there is a poll on my profile, if you want to check it out. It's for a story me and schoolgirl-cheesesculpture should write. Feedback is always welcome!


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